Life Choices: The Rise & Fall of Lindsey McDonald
by remember-nomore
Summary: A look into Lindsey McDonald, who he was and what made him the man with the ambiguous moral's. Six stories written about every fifth year of his life, starting from age five.
1. Life Choices

Fan-fiction writing if you think about it is like taking the character of your choice, slapping them onto a table and dissecting them. You see what makes them tick and you see how they'll react when you throw them into the situation you've set up for them. It could be something simple or something really out there…hey, we've all done that.

Digging inside the mind of Lindsey McDonald has to be one of the most enjoyable things that I have ever done as a fic writer – ok, maybe second to Tara – but both of them are so complex and rewarding when written the right way. Tara talk for another time, I'm playing with that smooth talking southern boy now.

Diving into the mind and character of a morally ambiguous character such as Lindsey can be hard at first, but once you dig deeper you find out that he's one of the most rewarding characters to write about; especially for being on the show for a total of twenty-one episodes over five years.

The six following stories were written for a challenge on live journal called _every five years_. This community's goal was to pick a character from any fandom and write a fic longer than five-hundred words for every fifth year of their life starting at age five.

Now, granted in canon we don't know a lot about Lindsey's past – he grew up in Oklahoma, dirt poor and constant struggle – the rest we're left to assume as writers as well as readers.

Lindsey McDonald is an authors dream when it comes to writing, he's a villain of circumstance, forced and manipulated onto the path that he was lead to believe was the better road. Lindsey's path is shadowed with doubts even as he continues on that it makes him one of the better characters to write. A villain – such as Angelus – is straight cut, you know the object of their obsessions and their goals, and it's easy to see the path they've chosen. It's just the same for someone of outright good.

The choices Lindsey has made – the right or wrong one – has always been for one goal: a better life for himself. He was determined not to be poor, hungry, homeless or dirty ever again, he compromised his beliefs to a certain extent for that goal.

Lindsey is constantly finding himself scraping for attention and approval from those he can't get it from, even if he doesn't want to admit it. We see it all through the show from the very beginning when he looked to Holland Manners for 'fatherly' approval, until the very end when he found himself desperately gripping for Angel's acknowledgment that he wasn't beyond saving and he still had some chance for that better life he's been desperately clawing to get.

As one of the most misguided characters Lindsey often looked for approval and worth in every wrong place he could. Blind Date is the perfect example of that, that was our first canon view of Lindsey trying to do what's right and what's for the better of himself. His want and need to gain Holland's approval and respect made him get Vanessa Brewer The blind woman off on all charges and then moments later went to Angel for help and guidance to stop the ball he sent rolling without full knowledge.

Lindsey's path was clear to him the first years of working at Wolfram and Hart. He knew what he wanted and needed to do and he did that, which was his object even before Wolfram and Hart stepped into his life.

Then in came Angel.

Angel was more than 'the good guy' or the one Lindsey needed to watch out for. He was the conscience he long since forgot he had, Angel was everything that Lindsey was wanting and never could be, Angel had the passion that Lindsey had so long ago forgotten, and fighting for what he wanted and knew was right without moral compromise. It was a striking blow to Lindsey knowing that Angel – a soulled vampire – could have good intentions and fight for the things he believed in, even long after he forgot.

Their conflict stemmed from that and fueled the fire for hatred and loathing they had.

At some point things changed, Lindsey had left LA to find his life – the one he's wanted – and dared The Partners to come after him. Tribal tattoo's hid him for nearly three years till the pull of LA and his jaded sense of what's right brought him back.

Lindsey came back knowing that Wolfram and Hart could rip him apart without so much of an afterthought. Lindsey's ambiguous morals came into play again, his desire to get Angel back for everything – from his hand to losing Darla and shoving him off his ignorant path at the firm – but his desire to stick it to Wolfram and Hart was greater.

He manipulated the situation that Angel and crew were in to better his plans to screw Angel and the firm. Recruiting Spike and turning him into what Angel once was and then activating the fail-safe in the basement of the Wolfram and Hart building. All were actions that were aimed to bring home what he said to Angel before he left…

'_Don't let Wolfram and Hart play your game, make them play yours…'_

But I believe I'm getting off the point I was trying to make. The six stories – or tales if you will – might give you a deeper glance into who Lindsey was and what shaped him into who he was. This might be just my point of view or it could be yours as well, everyone has a different perspective on a character and it's nice to look at things from different angles.

One of the tough things that I had was writing for the ages that I was assigned, not because writing Lindsey is hard, but simply because some of the most defining moments for him – before Wolfram and Hart as well as after – happened at an 'odd' age. From losing the house he grew up in when he was seven to losing his life before he was thirty.

Hopefully I've done canon and Lindsey justice with my view of the things we didn't know before and the reasons why he's so driven and beautifully jaded.


	2. Don't Matter at All

**Don't Matter at All**

"Hey! Get off'a me! Lemme out!" he yelled, hollering at the top of his lungs, using his fists to beat on the top of the laundry hamper. Lindsey could hear his brother's laughter as he struggled. "I'm gonna tell mamma." He set his jaw, angry and determined not to cry.

"Nuh-uh," Harold taunted, kicking his feet against the hamper and flipping over his comic book like it was any other day. "Not 'till you tell me where they hid the Christmas pr-"

His words were cut off when their mother walked into the makeshift laundry room. "What are you boys doing?" Leah McDonald scanned over the room and pressed her lips together, crossing her arms over her chest. "Harold, let your brother out this instant." Her tone was sharp, something she never did. Harold's eyes got wide before he jumped down from the hamper lid and running outside to read his comic in the barn.

"Mamma?" Lindsey pushed the lid open and peaked out at her, looking up when she walked over and pulled the lid all the way off, letting it fall to the ground. "He was bein' mean to me again." Lindsey's voice was soft and quiet as he raised his arms up, letting her pick him up and carry him into the living room to sit in her small sewing corner.

"It's alright. You know he was just playin' and didn't mean nothing by it." She soothingly ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead, watching as his hair fell back into his dirt-streaked face. "Do you wanna go out and play?"

Lindsey shook his head hard, slipping down off his mother's lap and sitting on the floor, pulling out the pieces of fabric she was working on. He tipped his head to the side and pointed to a small piece of stitched material studying the pattern he knew he was familiar with. "Mamma?"

The older woman looked up from her pattern box and smiled. "Yes, baby?"

"Isn't this one'a my shirts?" He looked up at her, the sun peaking through the window making Lindsey's bright blue eyes sparkle. "Why'd you go and do that for? The rest of it's gone."

Leah laughed and moved the box from her lap, slipping down onto the floor next to her son. "You weren't supposed to go snooping in there, Lindsey." She picked the stitched material and unfolded it over her lap revealinga patchwork of what would look like scraps of material to anyone else, but she knew the story behind all of them.

Lindsey got up on his knees and looked down at it, his small fingers moving over the stitches before pointing out different patches. "This was Anna's, wasn't it?" He grinned and looked up at her, hoping he got it right like he was being quizzed. Lindsey's mother nodded and brushed his hair off his face again; watching as he went over and started picking out the ones he knew were his.

"Now you don't go and tell nobody 'bout this, alright?"She leaned down so her face was level with his. "It'll be our little secret." Lindsey's blue eyes met his mothers even bluer ones.

Nodding his head he pressed his finger to his lips. "Shh." Grinning he did the same when he pressed his finger against his mothers lips, his eyes sparkling before he heard a honking noise outside. "Grandpa!"

Laughing, his mother kissed Lindsey's forehead, helping him to his feet and fixing his overalls. "Go on, but stay outta the road." He was out the door before she could even finish her words. Shifting so she leaned her back against the wall, Leah pulled out the paper bag that was filled with the clothes that the children had long since grown out of. Some items were hers and their father's as well.

She pulled the scraps of material out of the bag and started to work on her secret project, knowing she only had three more days till Christmas. Her heart ached when she thought about their father being out of town looking for work – again – and it made her sad when she looked over at the poorly decorated house. She always wanted more for them and she wished she could give it.

Three days later, Lindsey was up before the sun even thought to come up, his eyes darting around the room and glancing to the door at every sound he heard. He knew that it was Christmas, but he knew better than to head down stairs before everyone else.

About an hour later he slipped out of bed, his toes cold as they hit the warped floorboards of the room he shared with his brothers. Moving quietly, he passed his sister's room and headed towards his parents room, slipping through the door and looking up at the half empty bed.

"Mamma." His voice was a quiet whisper as he climbed into his parents bed on his fathers empty side of the bed. "Mamma." Lindsey reached out and tugged his mother's shoulder, not seeing the small smile on her face before she turned over and started tickling him.

"I'm gonna get you." He squealed with laughter, his feet kicking up as she tickled his ribs, his arms getting tangled up in the ratty blanket that covered the bed.

She pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his temple and lifted him into her arms. "C'mon, let's head down stairs. I'll make breakfast and we'll open presents…"

Grinning brightly, he nodded, giggling and jumping out of bed, pulling her blankets away. Lindsey reached for her hand to pull her down stairs, anxious to see what was there.

By the time they got downstairs, the room was already filled with laughter; the crinkling of brown paper and the sight of his older brother and younger sisters shaking the packages with their names on them. "Go on," Leah whispered to Lindsey, grinning as he took off and hurried to the one package sitting under the small almost-bare tree.

Lindsey grinned when he saw his name written on it in big bright red crayon, pulling the ends where the twine was as not to rip the paper or his name. Dropping the string onto the floor he shook the bag and out poured the softest material he'd ever felt. A bright smile lit up his face when he saw that it was his 'secret' he had with mamma.

Looking up he saw that everyone had the same thing, but each seemed to be different. It was almost as if they all had a piece of each other. He looked down and studied the patches, noticing a part of his baby blanket stitched in the right corner. A patch of his mother's lavender flowered dress was even there.

He wrapped it around his shoulders and padded over the cold floor to his mother in the kitchen. "Thank you, mamma." He grinned up at her and wrapped his arms around her thigh, hugging her close. That was enough to make her realize that maybe they weren't so poor after all.


	3. Haunting Memories

**Haunting Memories**

It's been almost four years, four years since he buried his two siblings and a little over three since they took the house and were forced to move in with their grandparents. Everything is clear in his mind like it was yesterday.

Lindsey remembers standing in the rain by two small wooden markers, white chalk spelling out the names of his older brother Harold and his baby sister Sarah.The sight of those markers made him realize exactly how poor they were. The only image before his eyes was the memory that was imprinted in his mind of how pale Harold looked as he shivered with cold in the bed, six or more blankets covering him but providing him with no warmth.

What haunted his dreams the most over the past two years was the morning he found Sarah. He went to check on her after they'd moved Harold into their parent's room so his coughing wouldn't keep her awake. The look on her face…that blank stare she had, her body long since cold and her eyes looking out the window as if she was watching the snow fall. Lindsey found out differently when he climbed into the bed to wake her.

She never woke up. Her eyes just stared blankly at him. Vacant.

The tears had ran silently down his face, as he bit his lip to try and keep himself composed for Anna who gripped his hand like a vise. Almost as if holding onto his hand kept her alive.

It was still bitterly cold for even this late in January, and the ground was frozen almost solid. His uncle and father had spent half the night digging the small grave for his younger sister. Lindsey's eyes were fixated on the ragged grave markers, knowing that anything could happen to add another marker next to Sarah's.

Standing there, Lindsey watched as the tiny coffin was lowered, a few strands of the piece of blanket his mother made poking out from the cracks in the wood. He felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was the oldest of the children and ever since they lost the house…it was his job to take care of everyone. His father was always off finding work – never with any success – and his mother's health was getting rapidly worse. It wasn't a physical illness, Lindsey knew that much, she had just given up and was now slowly fading away before his eyes, leaving him unable to do anything about it.

His grandparent's health was fading and it was up to him to get everyone off to school, make sure their homework was done and that everyone ate. He always put himself last…if at all.

There were nights that it was harder than others, but he kept it to himself. He'd be helping Anna with her homework and he could almost swear he heard Sarah's laughter. But he knew it wasn't there. She'd never giggle when he playfully pulled her pigtails and Harold would never lock him in the hamper to find out where the presents were.

Lindsey missed that.

Winter would come around and he'd grown to hate the cold winter, he hated snow that much more. It reminded him of that last year in the house, that cold winter when it snowed almost daily; the snow that took his sibling's from him.

He couldn't wait until he was older. The second he could he was moving out of Oklahoma and moving somewhere warm where it never snowed. He'd be happy if he never saw snow again.

The sound of the school bus hydraulics under his seat pulled him out of his thoughts. "C'mon, Anna." He nudged his younger sister who had fallen asleep against his arm. She woke up with a yawn and shuffled out of the seat, Lindsey following closely behind.

"Pappa home t'day's?" she asked quietly as the bus took off behind him, leaving them at the edge of their grandparent's driveway.

She always asked and he always said the same answer. "Don't know, I hope so." He wasn't sure if that was a lie or not; they hadn't seen their father in more than six months. His father had a talent that Lindsey never wanted, the talent to lie right to someone's face and them never the wiser.

He remembered the first time he saw that look, the day he signed over the house to some loan sharks he owed money to. Less than a week later the house was bulldozed over, nothing more left than dirt and the boards that used to make up their home.

"Me too." Anna's voice pulled him from his thoughts and she pulled her hand from Lindsey's grasp and started running up the driveway.

"Careful, watch out for glass," he yelled after her, biting his lip as he pulled his own shoes off, his toes digging into the soft spring grass. Lindsey always pulled his shoes off at the edge of the gravel and dirt covered driveway; the less he wore them the less worn they'd get is how he thought.

With bare feet, he tucked his shoes under his arm along with his books, bending down to pick up the burlap sack that Anna used as her school bag and headed up the driveway, wondering what chores he could do before sundown and which neighbor would have the first vegetables of the season. They were always nice about letting him do little things in exchange; he knew he could always count on Mrs. Miller, if she didn't have anything for him to do, she'd make something up. She knew that Lindsey would never take anything without working for it and gave up trying to argue with him about that.

"Lins'y!" A small smile formed on his lips when he walked in the door, Philip sitting in his highchair flailing his arms around, happy to see his older brother.

"Hey." Lindsey grinned, leaning over and kissing his brother's cheek before looking over at his mother. "Hey mamma. Daddy home yet?"

She smiled weakly, ignoring the question about his father and stroked his sun-kissed hair. "How was school?"

Dropping his books and shoes he shrugged and pulled out an apple and handed it to his mother. "Got an A on my math test; won apples." Lindsey beamed, making her take it. "Already had mine, saved this for you." He kept his gaze with hers, lying just to get her to take it. "Not gonna let ya' say no."

"My stubborn boy," his mother laughed, taking the apple and reaching for a knife. "We'll share."

He nodded, climbing up onto the stool next to her, enjoying that she was having a good day. On good days he could be a kid and take a rest; but her bad spells would come again and he would have to be the adult again. Those days always came.


	4. Where the Heart Is

**Where the Heart Is**

Sweat poured down his back, the hot summer sun tanning and burning his arms and shoulders. Lindsey's mind was far away from the bales of hay he was working on; his thoughts were on what he was going to write on his next scholarship essay.

It was the final week in July and he had already filled out about seven college applications and somewhere near fifty applications for loans, grants and scholarships. He knew that working as hard as he was in school wasn't going to be enough, especially when he was coming from less than nothing. Lindsey always had dreams of being and becoming more than he was and an even greater need to prove everyone else wrong about him.

Anyone else would think he was just desperate to move away from his home and family, but Lindsey had a bigger plan than that. He wanted a better life, for himself and the rest of his remaining family.

His grandfather died two years back, leaving his grandmother a widow. With her ailing health, he was left to become the caretaker – not that it was much different than before – of his younger siblings and his mother.

Leah McDonald died six months before, the last snow of the season. Nobody knew what she died from, but Lindsey remembered hearing Anna's screams all the way in the barn when she found their mother lying in bed not moving or breathing. They never had money for doctors so they never knew if she was sick. Lindsey always assumed that she just gave up and withered away.

His father was never around anymore, the phone calls had dwindled away to nonexistent and the letters were so far apart that there were times he wondered if his father was still alive. He didn't even bother asking how anyone was, not that he gave a return address or anything; his 'letters' consisted of a small note that said i 'I'm ok, not much work.' /i Sometimes there would be a few bills tapped to the paper for them. It was never more than enough to get a few things needed in the house, just barely.

There was a loud pop outside the barn and Lindsey put down the bale of hay in his hands, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm as he headed outside. "Philip, what are you doin'?" His brother stopped short, two pieces of slate in his hands, his fingers covered in soot. "What did I tell you about what would happen if you kept playin' in the gun powder?"

"But there's nothin' else goin' on. It's so hot…" Philip whined, dropping the rocks and crossing his arms in a pout. "You're always busy."

Sighing, Lindsey moved closer and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "All ya had to do was tell me you wanted the hose." He sighed and threaded his fingers through his sweat-matted hair. "C'mon; I'll pull the hose out. Where's Anna?"

"Homework." He shrugged, kicking dirt into a dust cloud like Pig-pen, making Lindsey laugh and mess his brother's hair as they walked. "Don't get why she's still got school. Nobody does that in the summer."

"Already told you why. She's only got three day's left, then you two can play all day." Lindsey reached up and pulled down the rope that held the hose wound up in the corner of the barn. He hooked it up and handed his brother the end. "Don't spray in the barn, I'm nearly done cleanin' it," he warned, giving his brother a look when he aimed the hose at him.

Philip stuck his tongue out and with the hose end in hand ran outside to most likely hose down half the lawn, himself and the dogs. Lindsey just hoped that his younger brother didn't get bored enough to try and water down the cats again…

Lindsey walked out of the barn, heading in the direction of the house to get something to drink when he felt his hot skin get blasted by a sharp stream of water followed by a giggle. "I'm so gonna get you!"

Laughing, Lindsey chased his brother, ducking the water every time his brother stopped to taunt him. "Can't catch me!" Laughing, Lindsey pretended to fall, laying on his back on the driveway and feeling the hot sun beat down on him. "Hey!"

"I give up." Lindsey turned and looked at his brother looking down at him. "You win." The moment the hose was out of Philip's hands, Lindsey grabbed him by the waist and pulled him down, tickling his younger brother's ribs and laughing along with him. "Got ya."

"Nooooo!" Philip giggled and tried to squirm away from Lindsey's teasing fingers. "You win, you win!" With that, Lindsey let go of him, letting his brother up to run off and no doubt get into trouble with the hose.

Too hot and tired to move, Lindsey decided he'd done enough work for the day, feeling the heat from the sun even as it was starting to go down. But lying there only made him think bitter thoughts, wondering if he'd ever get out of Oklahoma and make a better life or if he was going to fade away like his mother.

"Lin'sy?" He was startled from his thoughts, his eyes moving from the window to look down at Anna.

"Hey you, peanut."He kneeled down and pasted on the same fake smile that everyone else saw. "What you got there?" He looked down at it curiously, seeing neatly written writing from the teacher and scraps of rubber eraser that once held her writing. "Homework?"

"Rythmatik." Anna held it out in front of her like she didn't want to touch it. "Help, pulheaze?" She gave him a bright smile and pulled out a lime green sucker from her overalls; offering it to him as incentive.

"Nah, you keep it." He smiled, reaching out and taking her hand as she toddled along next to him. It had been too long since he remembered ever having candy, but he wasn't going to take it from her. He remembered Mrs. Robinson's class; if they were good they got one prize from the box. Lindsey wasn't about to take her one treat for the week away.

Anna shrugged happily and climbed up onto the bench next to him, pulling the wrapper off and putting it in her mouth. "Don't get it," she slurred around the candy, pointing to the page of seemingly simple problems. "Don't know why I gotta do dis." Lindsey couldn't help but smile as she pouted.

"You're ten, you have'ta go to school, peanut," he murmured half-heartedly, leaning down and kissing her temple, noticing how much more she was looking like their mother every day.

With the same innocent eyes he barely remembered having, Anna pulled the lollipop from her mouth and held it out for him, giving him a stubborn look till he parted his lips and allowed her to give it to him. "Green apple." The simplicity of her words always amazed him; the innocence in her eyes was even more.

"C'mon, let's get some of your work done before I fix dinner. Wanna help me tonight?" She nodded brightly, shifting to her knees and looking down as he started to show her how to answer her homework assignment.

He watched as she bit the tip of her tongue in thought, looking intently at the paper and trying to figure out the assignment in front of her. A pang of regret burned in his veins and he had the momentary thought of ripping up all the applications he'd been filling out and staying put in Oklahoma with his family. Lindsey knew better, his mother would want better for him – for all of them – if he got into college he could get a real job and make real money.

Maybe then he'd finally be able to buy them all a real life.


	5. The Hardest Choice

**The Hardest Choice**

_"Lindsey?" Anna's voice was quiet as she pulled on his shirt, her eyes welling up with tears as she tried to get her older brother'sattention. "Where's all your stuff? Everythin's all gone," she whispered as she looked around, trying to figure out what was going on._

"_I know, peanut." He took her hand and pulled her over to the bed where Philip sat and waited for him. "I've gotta talk to you two." Anna looked at him with childlike eyes, even for her age – turning fourteen in a few months – she still clung to him like when she was six._

"_You're leavin'." Philip crossed his arms over his chest, an angry look on his face. "Jus' like everyone else."_

_Lindsey sighed and shook his head. "You know it ain't like that." He ran his fingers through his hair and looked over at Anna. Cupping her face he brushed the few tears from her eyes and pulled her to him. "Goin' to school, you know I gotta. It'll be ok, I'm gonna go and get a good job and get us out of this place."_

"_Promise?"_

_He nodded and hugged Anna, smoothing her sandy blond hair away from her face. "Promise."_

That was two years ago and he hasn't been back since. Not for holidays or birthdays. He was filled with guilt that he never went back when Anna called and told them that their grandmother died. But he couldn't, he had three papers due and there wasn't anything he could do he knew that they'd both be safe at their aunt's in Tennessee. It was better for them that way. He couldn't provide what they needed; not now anyway.

It was too hard for him; he felt like he'd be intruding on that life. The life he had back in Oklahoma wasn't the life he had now, he'd left that behind the day he packed up the truck and drove through Arkansas and ended up in Nebraska to start his freshman year at Hastings.

Just being there at the college was an accomplishment for him, nobody in his family had ever even thought of going to college before now. Let alone on a scholarship that paid for more than seventy-five percent of his expenses.

Lindsey had a nice part-time job working in the coffee bar in the Perkins library on the south-west corner of the campus. There were good points and bad, mostly good thankfully. The pay was good, almost good enough for him not to worry about little things he needed and giving him just enough extra that he could go out with his friends and see a movie every so often. He also took full advantage of working so close to the library, between studying for school and finding such rich literary books that he'd only dreamed of before… Things were looking up for him for a change.

For the past two semesters he had worked hard in his classes, majoring in criminal justice with a minor in art history. Lindsey was determined to clean himself up and not be the backwoods country boy that people thought he was at first glance.

His accent was the first thing he struggled to tone down, it only came out strongly when he was incredibly drunk or angry; both of which was seldom. It took effort but he had also managed to bring his GPA up and keep it steady at 3.8, putting him in the upper portion of his class and granting him a spot in Hansen House his sophomore year. That pulled him out of the crowded dorms and into a private house with nine other men; there was always something going on. If it wasn't football outside on the lawn, they were throwing parties.

He never found himself too fond of those parties; he'd go and make nice with his friends, have some beer and more often than not he'd end up the center of someone's attention.

Lindsey did have one problem with girls; too many of them. Every party he went to – though few at that – there was always some tall blonde that would hit on him, inviting him back to her room. That invitation was never for cookies and a movie.

He never complained.

But there was always something missing; there was always something missing from the women he slept with.

"Lindsey!" Jason banged on the wall by the door, breaking Lindsey from his thoughts. "C'mon, they're having a party over in the girls dorms." His friend grinned at him, smirking and fixing his shirt, when he noticed the music playing in the room. "God man, what the hell are you listening to? This shit'll put you to sleep."

Rolling his eyes, Lindsey stood and walked over to the door. "Its classical music for a section we're working on in art history." Looking over at the clock he ran his fingers through his medium length hair and shook his head. "Can't, I've gotta study. If I don't pass my criminal justice midterm I'm going to get my ass handed to me."

Jason gave him a look and punched him in the arm lightly. "Bull-fucking-shit. Dude, you know that you're passing that class with fucking flying colors. I swear you're making the teacher look bad with your grades."

He laughed and shook his head. "No I ain't…" He stopped and corrected himself."I'm just above water in that class and I need to i keep /i above water. I don't get money handed to me like everyone else around here. I have a scholarship to keep."

"Whatever dude, you just need to get laid. I mean Susan's gonna be there and you know she's been hot for your ass since last semester. I bet all you have to do is smile and she'll jump at the chance to drag you to her room." Jason leered at him, walking over to his side of the room and pulled out a sealed box of condoms, dangling them like they were a prize.

Lindsey ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the blush creeping up on his cheeks. "Stop that, she's a nice girl…" Okay, she wasn't really, but he didn't want to be rude. He had some respect.

"Uh-huh." Jason kept his mouth shut and pulled his leather jacket from his closet. "Are you comin'?" Lindsey shook his head and shrugged. "Your loss, man."

Sighing and shaking his head in amusement at Jason, Lindsey closed the door behind his friend and moved back over to his desk. This was the forth party in two weeks that he blew off to study, but he knew that you didn't get anywhere in life unless you worked for it. Jason was one of his best friends but he didn't understand what Lindsey was working for; he had seven platinum cards that his parent's paid for and he didn't know what struggle was.

Lindsey can't seem to forget it.

He reached over and pressed play, and the scratching noise of a homemade tape flowed from the speakers. It was something Lindsey played when he was sure nobody was listening. The soft methodic chords filled the room with music that he had yet to find words for, each note making him wish he had more time for his guitar that was currently collecting dust in a ratty case under his bed.

Another time, another place, someday he'd have time again. He would find a small nightclub or a bar; using some made up name with dim lights all around him, cowboy hat tipped down over his eyes and he'd play till his fingers bled.

It would all come in time and he knew that; but now he had to study and fight for something that everyone else got handed to them.

An hour later there was a soft knock that pulled Lindsey away from his midterm. Sighing, he put down his pen and walked over to the door, his bare feet hitting the cold tiles as he walked.

When he pulled the door open he found himself staring at an older man dressed in a suit, clearly looking out of place. "Lindsey McDonald?" Lindsey nodded, looking at him questioningly. "Holland Manners."Reaching out his hand, he took the business card that was offered to him. "I'd like to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime…"


	6. Moments Defined

**Moments Defined**

_I ain't gonna lie  
__I've been drinking here all night  
__With an old friend of mine  
__Her name is misery... _

Moments: small fragments of time that link together to form our lives much like the notes played on his guitar to string together a song, a G-chord here, an A-minor there; all stringing together to make a melody. A melody of moments and memories that flood his mind every time he plays them.

Lindsey remembers all the moments that lead him here, from the blanket that his mother had made when he was five which was by now so worn and shredded that all that remained was the small lavender patch of his mother's dress in the very back of his wallet, to that life altering knock on the door during his sophomore year in college.

The moments that lead him here to this bar, a well hidden club with patrons not unlike anything he's seen here in L.A. He knows demons, he's worked for and beside them numerous times since he's come to L.A., and nothing is out of the ordinary for him anymore.

Working at Wolfram and Hart has been more than an eye-opening experience for him; it changed his life and set him on his way. Straight to the top where power and money dwell, all the things Holland Manners promised him that day he showed up at Hastings.

Holland was even more pleased with Lindsey's performance, promoted Lindsey and gave him every opportunity to move forward at the firm. He remembers everything like it was yesterday…

_"Lindsey?" Holland's voice was even toned with just a hint of menace._

"_Yes, Mr. Manners?" Lindsey nervously fixed his suit jacket, his fingers moving over material more expensive than anything he'd seen or worn before. Stepping out of the elevator he followed Holland to his corner office, the view always set Lindsey on edge, even though he'dbeen here for nearly four years._

"_Close the door behind you and have a seat, Lindsey." Lindsey quietly obeyed before moving over to the chair directly across from Holland's seat, sitting up straight and waiting. "You have been with this company for a few years now. Your performance, I must admit, has been quite remarkableI'm very impressed. You've surpassed most of my expectations, as well as those ofThe Partners."_

"_Thank you, Sir." He resisted the urge to smile and kept his face neutral knowing that he had worked hard to get where he was and it was time that it started paying off._

"_Nobody in the company's history has ever made it from the mailroom to any of the upstairs offices like you have, Lindsey. The Partners are greatly impressed and we all have high hopes for you." Holland smiled at him, that smile that he always worewith clients when he was trying to close a deal. "I told you the day I met you that I had an opportunity of a lifetime for you and I'm keeping that promise." Holland stood and walked over to he file cabinet, opening the middle drawer and pulling out a thick file before returning to his desk._

"_This file," he spoke as he opened the file about a quarter of the way throughand handed it to Lindsey, "is on one of our most important clients; Cyvus Vail. I've been contacted by his associates about a business arrangement he'd like our assistance in. I promised him that one of our best would be handling the project for him." Holland paused and leaned back in his oversized leather chair. "That would be where you come in, Lindsey. The file in your hands is your first client. I, of course, will help you if you need it, but I'm sure a man of your smarts won't need any help with this matter."_

_Lindsey closed the file and nodded at Holland. "Thank you, sir. You won't be sorry."_

"_No, I won't." Holland stood and walked around to the other side of his desk, dipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. "Your new office is two doors down on the right; your client is already waiting for you.Everything you need is at your disposal but I strongly suggest you go downstairs and see Gwen in Files and Records and gather all of the information you need before the end of business today." He smiled down at Lindsey and patted his shoulder as he walked towards the door, holding it open in the silent gesture for Lindsey to leave. "Don't forget, Lindsey, I'll be watching…"_

_Lindsey stood up and nodded politely, making his way down to his new office, a small smile on his face as his eyes gazed over the silver name plate with his name on it._

_Breaking out of the moment, he reached down and turned the knob, file in hand as he stepped into his office for the first time._

"_Kept me waiting long enough." Quickly he turned in the room and spotted what he would assume was an elderly man with a skin problem, but after taking a closer look he knew that his first client was other than human._

_Clearing his throat, he shifted and made his way behind his desk. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, sir; I was only just informed that you needed our assistance I'm Lindsey McDonald."_

"_Well, Mr. McDonald, I recommend that in the future you make it your greatest concernnot to keep me waiting." The voice was raspy and threatening, making Lindsey shift in his seat. "Now, onto my business; I need to make a few business arrangements concerning some previous business with Silas…"_

Many things have changed since that day, Lindsey himself doing the most changing. He's become harder, more closed off. He puts in more hours in the office than most of his coworkers, he does all his research himself and he's determined not to let anyone down… he's done that enough.

Two years after moving to L.A., he found out about the fire in Tennessee at his aunt's house. It was the fire that took away the reason that he's done everything in his life to this point. A kitchen fire consumed the house in a matter of minutes, his siblings never made it out of the house.

The guilt had eaten him up until he found solace in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, generously poured for him by Lilah. That night he'd spilled things to her that he'd never spoken of, she in turn did the same until they were both too drunk to think or even pour themselves into a cab to get home.

He doesn't remember much about that night, except for the fact that the morning sun woke him up to find Lilah sprawled over him, just as undressed as he was.After she woke up, he was forced to swear that he'd never speak of it again; he hasn't.

_"Wolfram and Hart is a full service law firm, Mr. Winters. It is our job - to see to it that our clients' lives run more smoothly." _

No sooner had those words left his mouth, his job at the firm got a lot harder. Angel saw to that, it was almost as if he had made it his mission to make Lindsey miserable at Wolfram and Hart.

Angel shoved his richest client out of a seventh story window. That moment caused a spiral of events that Lindsey never planned for, things he never wanted to happen.

His mind always filled with thoughts of Angel the man that blew into his life and rocked his world off this course he had been on; the course of quiet compliance for the firm and willingness to get ahead in life.

Angel had only sparked desire in him, desire and want that he'd forgotten he had so long ago. Envy and anger poured off of him every time his name was mentioned, his lust was obvious to anyone with eyes; even more so to those that didn't.

But it wasn't what they thought, it wasn't the physical want – at least not at first – it was the envy for that look in Angel's eyes. That look of passion and fire, the look of knowing who you are and fighting for it with everything inside you.

Lindsey used to have that passion, but it's long gone, dwindled out like the rest of his family.

_I spent the last day anywhere you could be found,  
__and I'd give anything if you'd turn back around  
__Anyways...  
__I just called to tell you  
__That I was wrong... can I come home_

Lindsey knows he can't go back home, as his fingers strum the chords of his guitar, the smell of smoke, blood and a sulfuric scent he can't quite place fills his senses. This is the only place he feels he can unwind, let go and be who he wanted to be and not what he was.

Some night's he goes on stage, guitar in hand and just lets it all go. The feel of his guitar under his fingers is the only thing he knows in those few moments, those moments when he can't be touched by legal briefs and the moral ambiguity of the clients he defends. His fingers glide over his guitar like a second language rolls off the tongue, the last chord of the song always makes his fingers ache. The spell of revere is broken as he stands to exit the stage; clearing his throat and pushing away that last bit of southern boy drawl that's left in him.

He knows he can't turn back the clock, and there's no turning back from what he's become, the choices he's made. It is what it is and the only thing he can do is fight against that passion he no longer has.

Because if Lindsey can't have it, why should Angel?

**Authors Note: **_Lyrics in italics are from the KANE song 'Don't Come Home'_


	7. New Beginnings For An Old Soul

_The final story is told, our journey has ended. This has been one long emotional ride for me as the writer and I know for at least two readers who have been left in tears. Thank you to everyone who's read and left feedback. Feedback feeds the soul. small_ /cheesy moment

New Beginnings For An Old Soul

Defining moments, memories, things that people say and do that shape our lives. A kind gesture, a good grade; even a knock on the door. Everything leaves ripples behind; it has an effect on what happens next.

But what happens when you can't remember those ripples? What happens when you can't remember how you got here and what exactly happened to shape your life?

Lindsey doesn't remember. He doesn't even know that he's had a life before this, he doesn't remember the hard times, the sweet moments or the little girl with bright blue eyes that sparkled when he called her 'Peanut'.

He dreams about it, but he thinks they're nightmares and nothing more. He dreams of images of things far too unspeakable for a southern boy to grasp.There have been nights he woke up screaming, grasping his wrist and gripping onto his fingers to make sure it's still there.Other nights he has dreams of himself dressed in a suit making deals with the devil by day and drowning his sorrows in whiskey by night.

Lindsey groaned as his gloved hands gripped onto the bale of hay, lifting it and carrying it outside to the horses. "Here ya go." He smiled, dropping the bale and slicing open the twine with the knife he kept in his pocket.

Standing up, he moved over to the fence and hoisted himself up, his feet dangling over the edge as he looked out at the rising sun. Nothing but the wind and the horses could be heard this early, not even the kids the next house over who insisted on coming by to play with the kittens that lived in the shed.

A chill ran through him and he rubbed his hands over his sun-kissed-warm skin, the morning sun burning into his already tanned shoulders. He closed his eyes and remembered the dream that woke him before the sun…

_"Lindsey, why did you come back?" His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the chained man in the basement of Wolfram and Hart._

"_You wouldn't believe me if I told you**" **Lindsey snorted and stood, running his fingers through his hair and walking over to the bars. "Hell, I don't."_

_The two men stood face to face like they has so many times, only this time bars and anger separated them. They stood that way for what felt like hours, but were really moments, silently having a battle of wills until a loud screeching sound made them turn._

"_You didn't answer me, Lindsey." His tone was flat and his eyes burned into Lindsey's flesh, even looking away he could feel it. He knew that Angel wasn't going to back down until he got the answers he wanted._

_The thought of lying just to get him out of here crossed his mind. But he second guessed that… why bother when he's got nothing else to lose? He didn't haveanything left that was of worth, the firm took that from him and Angel's lackeys took his tattoos away that kept him hidden, so what else did he have to lose?_

_Nothing._

"_For you." Lindsey finally spoke honestly, glancing up at Angel and waiting for a comment. He laughed when one didn't come. "What? Did I leave you speechless there, big guy?"_

"_Just amused."_

"_How so?"_

"_You're here in a cell where I helped put you and you're telling me that you came back for me? What, you didn't think it was fair for the Senior Partners to rip me apart and not you?"_

"_You have to be the stupidest vampire in history." Lindsey's tone was acidic and his eyes narrowed. "I think Spike's beat you on the 'brains' part of this Champion contest…"_

_Angel growled low in his throat, edging towards Lindsey only to be stopped by bars. "Fuck you."_

"_Not interested," he snapped back quickly – maybe a bit too quickly– making his way over to the bunk and leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't get it, do you?"_

"_Well, you did say that Spike was smarter than me… which just proves that you're out of your mind. Spike is no-"_

"_When I left, what did I say?" Lindsey's words cut Angel off as he restlessly got off the bed and moved to the bars, just out of Angel's reach. "Don't let Wolfram and Hart win; don't let them make you play their game." Lindsey's eyes were wide with anger. "No sooner am I gone do you do exactly what I told you not to do. You're like mentally deficient and that proves it."_

"_We're cha-"_

"_You finish that sentence with 'we're changing things here' I swear I will rip your head off if it's the last thing I do. That was my line, Angel. That was always my line as they ripped and tore away everything that made me who I was. There was a point when I forgot why I took this job and why I was doing what I did despite everything I wanted for myself."_

_Angel rolled his eyes, moving back and leaning against the wall opposite of Lindsey's cage. "Wake me when you're done."_

"_Fuck you, are you even listening to me? No, you don't ever listen. That was your damn problem. You never listen to what anyone says because they're not some tortured vampire like you are. Well boo-fucking-hoo. Not everyone has to be dead to have a tortured soul, Angel. If you ever got off that high horse of yours once in a while you'd see that. You would see what was right in front of you and that's the firm sticking it to you. That rod firmly shoved up your ass isn't your own uptight 'woe is me, I have a soul' nature, that's the Senior Partner's puppet strings pulling you in every direction they want."_

_Angel wasn't about to admit that Lindsey was makinga few points of clarity here. He stayed silent but kept listening._

"_You needed a piece of who you were; the only thing that would give you clarity was a good dose of how it was. If you want to admit it or not, I was most likely the only damn one to have what you needed." Lindsey roughly ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head and looking down. "I hid from the firm, nearly costme my life, but it was on my own terms. I came back here to kick your ass back onto the right track; you were so far off course that you were helping the firm get closer to their goal. That same fuckin' goal you cut my goddamn hand off for. You're working for hell its self, inside the beast. I'm living on my own terms, my own life and my own choices. Now, you tell me what's wrong with that picture…"_

_Clearing his throat Angel moved off of the wall. "I'm leaving." His tone was impassive as he ran his fingers ran through his hair, turning away from Lindsey, not wanting him to see the look in his eyes._

"_Where the fuck are you going?" Lindsey tried to keep the panic from his voice, but it was hard when he was on the locked side of a cage. "Angel…" His knuckles turned white from gripping the bars._

"_I'm going to see Gwen, I've have to fix this." That was the last thing Lindsey heard before the metal door slammed shut._

"Baby?" Her voice was soft as she walked barefoot out to the fence, her honey blond hair blowing in the breeze behind her. Her arms wrapped around his waist from behind and she rested her cheek on his side. "You're up so early. Couldn't sleep?" Lindsey nodded, sighing and staying silent. "That's starting to worry me, sweetie." Her hands ran over his chest, feeling the defined muscles under her fingertips.

"I know," he muttered, pulling away from her arms and swinging his legs over the fence to give her a proper hug. "Damnit," he swore, shaking his head as he glanced down at his now torn pair of jeans. "I can't keep doin' this."

She laughed at him, reaching down and touching the edges of the torn fabric and simply smiling. "I just think of it as more material for the baby blanket." Her eyes turned up towards his, a devious glint in her eyes. "Or maybe it's just some sneaky way for me to get your pants off…"

Lindsey laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly to him before turning and pressing her firmly into the fence. "All you gotta do, darlin', is ask." He dipped his face to her neck and started nipping softly. "Or just do…" His eyes closed as he rested his head against her shoulder, the feeling of her fingers in his hair soothing away everything that ailed him.

Her laughter only made him grin, her arms wrapping around his neck before she remembered why she'd come outside. "S-stop, Lindsey." She laughed again, pressing her hands against his chest and pushing him away. "I wanted you to come inside…" she said, letting her words hang as she took him by the hand and started pulling him towards the house.

"I'm comin'," he laughed, shaking his head as he followed his wife back into the house. Lindsey let himself be pulled into the kitchen when he found it was his turn to grin like a fool.

Set out on the table was a stack of pancakes with three lit candles sticking out. They were halfway burnt and the wax had made a small pool in the center of the top pancake. "Hey, what's this?"

"Happy birthday." Standing on her tiptoes she kissed his cheek. "Goodbye twenty's," she teased him, kissing him again before pointing to the table. "Sit and blow out your candles."

"Yes ma'am." He smirked giving her a mock salute and sitting in his chair. "Smells great," he commented, leaning forward and blowing out his candles. "I hope you made some for you." Lindsey glanced up at her, winking and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'll share." He took his fork and cut a bite, feeding her the first bite before taking one for himself.

She started to squirm and pulled herself off his lap, he watched quietly as she moved over and picked up a box and brought it back to him. "Happy birthday, baby." Sitting down she handed him the box, curling her knees up under her chin and watching anxiously.

Lindsey smiled and shook the box. Hearing nothing, he started to pull at the brown wrapping paper, smiling as his fingers moved over the surface of the paper before it fell to the floor.

His eyes widened when he looked inside, bits of fabric and memories greeted his sight and a broad smile slipped over his lips as he pulled out the handmade blanket. "I can't believe you did this, it's beautiful." His fingers slowly moved over the patches, his smile only getting bigger as he remembered what each patch was. Some were hers and some his; there was even a piece of the cloth napkin from their first date two years ago. "Hey." He tipped his head to the side, pointing to a small patch of fabric that he couldn't quite place. "What's this from? I don't remember a dress of yours like that…"

She moved closer and looked, shaking her head. "Not mine, it was mixed in with some of your things and I thought it was pretty. You don't know where it's from?"

"No," Lindsey murmured, his fingers moving over the piece of slightly faded lavender floral material, his mind filling with a fond memory that he couldn't see clearly.

It took him a moment to shake the feeling off before he stood and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, moving over to sit next to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Thank you darlin', its amazing." A cocky smirk crossed his lips as his hands moved lower on her hips. "Think we should forget about breakfast and break this in right…"


End file.
